


A beery merry Christmas

by kiki_92



Series: Siege the Christmas [2]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Bandit wanted to be left alone, Christmas Decorations, Crafts, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, M/M, Rook is persistent, it's all for the better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 07:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17039786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiki_92/pseuds/kiki_92
Summary: With the rest of the GSG9 gone on an operation, Bandit remains all alone on his home, thinking about how much he hates Christmas. Rook is determined to be a good friend and keep him company.





	A beery merry Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> My participation for the Siegemas event, with the prompt “You call this decorated?”
> 
> A huge thank you to [ToDragons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToDragons/pseuds/ToDragons) and [Grain_Crain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grain_Crain/pseuds/Grain_Crain) for being my beta readers this time!

Two days until Christmas and Bandit was already feeling suffocated by it all. The decorations, the way people acted differently these days, even the damn carolers going down the street. Bandit couldn’t look anywhere without being assaulted by the so-called Christmas spirit. He hated it.

In his eyes, there was nothing special about the holidays, just people deluding themselves into thinking they were happier than ever, that everything was fine. Bandit couldn’t stomach the forced cheer that permeated everything. The carolers were still singing close by, and Bandit turned the TV on to mute them, before his irritation got the best of him and he chased them away screaming like a madman.

The image that flickered to life was some kind of a chat show, with a gorgeously decorated Christmas tree in the background. Bandit scowled at the screen and viciously pressed the button on the remote to change the channel. He flipped through stations aimlessly, until he found a football match he had no real interest in, but at least he could be sure there would not be any Christmas content lurking in it. His plan was to drink beer until he fell asleep on the couch. There was a perfectly fine and comfortable double bed waiting for him. However, Bandit preferred the couch. The bed was too big and cold for him; there would be no warm body pressed against him, no Jäger complaining about how cold Bandit’s hands were when he inevitably touched the engineer’s warm skin. That also meant not being woken up in the middle of the night by one of Jäger’s nightmares, what Bandit didn’t mind really, neither being awoken nor calming him down. Comforting Jäger was also a way to reassure himself that his boyfriend was still there with him.

Bandit didn’t like it when one of them had to go  on an operation without the other, never liked it much, and since Operation Chimera he downright hated it. IQ and Blitz were the ones who had been deployed this time. However, since the insertion and extraction points were difficult to access, Jäger’s piloting expertise was also needed. So Bandit stayed in Hereford, alone, counting the days like he’d never done before and bewildered about why the house felt so empty. Bandit scowled again and finished half of his beer in one gulp.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Bandit checked it with the nebulous hope it was a text from Jäger. It was Rook who, in Blitz’s absence, had turned into Bandit’s shadow, following him like a lost puppy. It was annoying and a reminder of what not to turn into. No matter how much Bandit missed Jäger, he hoped he would never become this clingy.

_“What are you doing?”_

Bandit considered ignoring him, but the last time he did that, Rook showed up unannounced at his house, to check up if he was alright, he said. That damn baguette-lover sounded like Blitz sometimes.

With a defeated sigh, Bandit texted back. _“Decorating, cleaning. Busy.”_

Bandit had no intentions to get off of the couch anytime soon, but as long as it kept Rook at bay, he could think about maybe tidying up the house. Later. Or tomorrow. Before Jäger came back. He should have known such a boring reply would not be a deterrent for Rook.

 _“I’ll come help you then! :D”_  

That fucking _smiley_ at the end... from anyone else Bandit would think it was open mockery, but Rook was just like that. There was no stopping him now, when Rook said he was coming over he would come. The Frenchie was surprisingly stubborn under all that cheerful attitude.  Bandit could always _not_ open the door, but it was like leaving a small dog out on the street, it felt unnecessarily cruel. Not to mention Blitz would kill him if he knew.

Great, now he had to clean for real. He shouldn’t have answered at all. Bandit finished his beer and left the can on the coffee table. That right there was one of the many things to clean. There  was an impressive collection of discarded cans littering the small table, to the point almost its whole surface was covered. With a few more of those he could build a fucking pyramid. Struck by an idea, he got up and went to make sure he had what he needed to bring his  plan to life.

When Rook arrived, he was ushered inside by a disheveled Bandit. The dining table, full of washed and drying beer cans, probably didn’t help ease the manic image Bandit offered, but he didn’t give a fuck. Rook took off his coat and, after looking around, left it on the couch. Bandit barely paid attention to him, concentrated on his new project as he was. The upside of not having turned off the television was that technically there were no awkward silences, not when the commentator droned about who had possession of the ball or who got a yellow card.

“You said you were cleaning and decorating?” Rook asked, after observing him for a while, circling around the table to have a better view of what Bandit was doing.

“Both at once in fact!” Bandit glued another can of beer to a cardboard circle. Perhaps it was the lack of substantial sleep, or knowing he could persuade Rook to help him clean up afterwards, or the fact he had something to work on, but Bandit was sure that had been the best idea he’d had in days.

Rook opened his mouth and closed it again, looking at the mess of cans and cardboard and glue scattered on the table. “Ah. And what are you doing exactly?”

“A Christmas tree, obviously.”

“That’s supposed to be a tree?” Rook’s doubt was a tangible entity, oozing from his words, and Bandit was mildly affronted by it.

“That’s the only decoration I’m putting up. Marius said he wanted a tree and he’ll have one. This one.”

Nodding mutely, Rook watched him work for a while. Then he passed Bandit the pieces he needed, both building up the levels of tin cans that made up Bandit’s unusual Christmas tree. In the end they were short of one single can. Bandit went to the kitchen, poured the beer in two glasses, one for each, and rinsed the can to complete the tree. The final result was a four deck structure that resemble either a green cake or an unusual tree. It was the sort of wacky craft Cedrick used to like, and an unwanted stab of nostalgia pierced Bandit’s chest. Cedrick and him had built one of those the year they joined the Bundespolizei. He had forgotten about it.

“It looks better than I thought!” Rook’s judgement brough Bandit back to the present “With some tinsel might even look properly festive!”

“Hmph.” Bandit stared at his, no, their creation. Perhaps tinsel could be useful to hide the excess of glue. He stalked off to search in the wardrobe where they stored all sorts of junk. Jäger loved Christmas decorations, he surely must have shelved tinsel, or garlands, or something. He only had to find them.

After searching through a lot more boxes than he remembered, he eventually found the one containing the Christmas decorations. Bandit grabbed some red tinsel and, in a fit of impulsiveness, a glittery golden star. Back on the living room, Rook was cleaning the table, chucking all the leftover pieces of cardboard and empty glue tubes into a trash bag. At least he knew how to make himself useful, just like Bandit predicted.

Wrapping the tinsel around the base of each level of his creation took but a moment. As loath as he was to admit it, Rook had been right, it looked better than before. Bandit picked it up and set it next to the television, topping it with the golden star he’d stashed in his pocket. Shit, his pocket was now full of loose glitter and the laundry would sparkle for days.

“Elias texted! They’re already on their way back!” Rook was nearly jumping, exactly like an overexcited puppy. Bandit was allergic to dogs and excessive cheer, but for once he shared the Frenchman’s enthusiasm. 

However, when Rook hugged him, Bandit reassessed that opinion. He allowed it for about two seconds before he pushed Rook away. The Frenchman didn’t seem to notice Bandit’s hostile expression, and if he did, he didn’t care. At least he left soon, saying he wanted to prepare a surprise for Blitz’s return. Bandit tried to pry what kind of surprise, just in case it was something saucy he could use to tease Blitz, but Rook gave no details. Once Rook left, Bandit settled back again on the couch and checked his phone. Reading Jäger’s text saying he missed him put a smile on his face. Bandit sent a reply, mentioning he had decorated the house for him, then he spent the rest of the night watching reruns of ‘The Great British Bake Off’ until he fell asleep. For the first time since Jäger was deployed, Bandit had no strange dreams.

He woke up to the noise of a door being closed and light streaming copiously through the windows. Shit, it was much later than he had expected. Bandit had wanted to be there when his friends landed, but he slept through the alarm he had programmed. Or did he think about setting an alarm and fell asleep before doing that? Bandit couldn’t remember. What mattered was that Jäger was home again. He cracked an eye open to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

“... ‘ello handsome.”

Jäger looked tired, like he had slept very little during these last days. Just like Bandit. “Did I wake you up?”

“What do you think?” Bandit rolled to the side, as much as the couch allowed, and patted the empty space next to him. Jäger took the invitation and cozied up to his side, lying half on top of him. Bandit immediately put his arm around Jäger, playing with his short hair and occasionally brushing against his neck.

“You said you decorated the apartment.” Trust Jäger to be concerned about that right after arriving. Bandit tried to suppress a chuckle and pointed at his creation. “You call this decorated? I would not have said it like that, but, it is cool.”

“Smartass.”

“It is very… original. Like you!”

At this point Bandit didn’t bother trying to hide his laughter. Accidentally backhanded or awkward compliments were Jäger’s specialty, and oddly enough something he had missed. “Stop thinking about that and focus on how we’re going to celebrate your return. Now. On the couch.” 

In case there was any doubt about what he meant, Bandit brought his hand down Jäger’s back and over his ass, squeezing it. Instead of answering with words, Jäger responded kissing him. That was the kind of conversation Bandit liked the most, the ones that were thoroughly enjoyable for both parties. And he planned on making this one memorable.


End file.
